Only Crime is Falling in Love
by Acerbus Animus
Summary: Romeo and Juliet the Titanic Samson and Delilah. All were loves with tragedy. No one ever thought of another pairing: FBI agent and a deathrow convict. [No real plot to it. It'd kinda a drabble really. Mainly OCDon, with a bit of OCCharlie...for now anywa


It was raining. No one had understood and now she was going to die. The time between when she'd been sentenced and now was seven years. Seven long years in which she hadn't seen daylight and hadn't had any touch with the outside world. It had been lonely, but she was used to being on her own.

Staring at the single, solid door that led to her dark prison, she waited. There was no hope for someone to intervene and stop the process. She would be in the morgue by the end of the day.

The chief examiner was probably wearily watching the news, waiting to see if someone would answer his prayers and cancel the execution. She grinned to herself, before beginning to giggle softly.

Even if she died, there would always be someone out there. She'd be known.

"_Let's remember back in the good ol' days  
__In the time of dangerous Bloody Jesimae's  
__When the knives helped the hopeless dead  
__Into the stomachs of demons finally fed  
_  
"_With scars from Long Neck's yoke  
__To hint at 'er time in 'er mate Grim's choke—"_

One of the guards began to pound on the thick door. "Shut up in there, Hawkins!"

She pouted, crossing her arms with a whimper. "But I like my _pretty_ song!" she replied, accenting the word by making it sound childish.

"You don't know any Longeck or Grimm," the man laughed, misinterpreting her fake Cockney accent.

Mae yawned to herself and walked back to curl up on the pathetic cot that she used to laugh at sleeping on. Now, however, she realized she was going to miss this little home of hers. It'd all she'd ever really known to be her sanctuary. Her childhood definitely hadn't provided that for her at all.

"Well, Señor Valentino Perrito del Amor," she whispered to the large stuffed dog made of a soft material. It was white with a couple red spots and had a heart-shaped nose. "I guess this is it."

He just continued to look back at her with his sad eyes, causing her to bury her face into his fake fur. He smelled like her shampoo, which reminded her of the time she'd been in the psych ward at the local hospital. She'd made friends there, probably the only friends she'd ever make in her life.

"Jesi?"

Looking up, she smiled at the face looking in the tiny little window that illuminated the dark little room.

"Donnie!" she said in genuine excitement, putting the Señor back on the bed as she got up and moved over to the door. "Hi!"

The FBI agent gave her a tiny smile, nodding in greeting. "I hear you've got a few more hours for visitation. Do you mind?"

She rocked on her heels. "Nope! I love talking to my top favourite Dude in Blue."

"I'm your only favourite."

She shrugged. "All the more why I love you."

Something passed over his face that she didn't recognize, but he moved out of her line of sight and the guards came in to chain her up.

"So…what'cha wanna talk about, Donnie?" she asked once they were in a safe little box, surrounded by guards.

It was stupid, really, considering that her arms, legs, and torso were chained to the chair that was, in turn, bolted to the floor. The thought of her actually escaping made her laugh softly to herself.

He ignored her.

"Actually, I wanted you to meet someone."

She perked up. Even though she couldn't stand people before she'd entered jail, now she loved meeting new ones. It was so rare that she wasn't used to it.

"Yay!"

The door behind her clanged as the lock was removed so that this stranger could enter. She mentally berated the designers of the jail for prolonging her curiosity. It was like everything was made to induce her suffering.

"Uh, Don?"

Glancing up, she found herself staring at a young man who resembled her friend greatly. She blinked a couple times, before tilting her head like that of a confused dog.

"Who're you?"

He stared at her as if not understanding what to do in this situation. He probably wasn't used to meeting death row convicts.

"Charlie, um, Charlie Eppes," he said as he held out his hand to shake one of hers.

Grinning, she moved her arms the four inches that the handcuffs allowed. He slowly retracted his hand and looked over at Donnie.

"This is my brother, Jesi."

Her jaw dropped in shock. "This is your little brother? I was picturing some little kid, still in high school or something. Not this young man…"

Charlie looked away from her eyes; apparently she still had that predatory look in there. She sighed a little.

"What is this about, Don?"

"Your son."


End file.
